Psalm 142
1 I cry to the Lord with my voice; *
to the Lord I make loud supplication.
2 I pour out my complaint before him *
and tell him all my trouble.
3 When my spirit languishes within me, you know my path; *
in the way wherein I walk they have hidden a trap for me.
4 I look to my right hand and find no one who knows me; *
I have no place to flee to, and no one cares for me.
5 I cry out to you, O Lord; *
I say, "You are my refuge,
my portion in the land of the living."
6 Listen to my cry for help, for I have been brought very low; *
save me from those who pursue me,
for they are too strong for me.
7 Bring me out of prison, that I may give thanks to your Name; *
when you have dealt bountifully with me,
the righteous will gather around me.
My spirit languished today. My spirit wallowed. I was weighted with tears and sorrow. I’m not sure why today the anvil came back out and oxygen became tar because it had been a “good couple of days” (those of us who suffer from depression may recognize that feeling, for the lay-person it means you “didn’t cry and actually showered”). Then it hit me: I don’t have a job. My work, which I love, which defines most of who I am has ceased to exist. No one wants to buy sell, or rent a home right now. No one needs me to sponsor a concert or buy an ad. I haven’t had a meaningful conversation with my beloved team in days; I haven’t put new keys in a new lock for weeks. One thing is to fight feeling sad when things are ok but another is to fight sadness when there is death, illness, hatred, and lack of purpose. My right hand did not know me, as the psalm said. I had “no place to flee to and no one who cares for me” which meant, to me, there was no “work” no clients needing me.
The word “languish” means “to lose or lack vitality; grow weak or feeble” or/and “suffer from being forced to remain in an unpleasant situation” and this is exactly what was happening to me today. I was weak with being forced to remain in an unpleasant situation (as we all are). Then I was done with feeling sad because I genuinely and for real asked God to help me out of my prison and restore my faith, as I have done a number of times before during my depression. After that supplication I felt His love and my faith, and somehow, I physically got out of bed and roasted a chicken for family which is truly my purpose. I went to put music on my phone and ‘siri’ decided to play Keepin’ The Faith by Billy Joel. I read a text from a client who is so excited to move into her first new home, asking me how I am. And then there was email from Deacon John asking me to write a reflection about “bringing me out of prison” and giving thanks. So, yes, you can wallow and languish and feel sad, but try to ask for help. You will be lifted out of the darkness--all you have to do is decide to ask.